I promised my son that I would never write about him, but that’s too bad, son. This is my story and you just happen to be a character in it. I’m not sure exactly how this happened, but the girl I was dating became pregnant. We sat down like mature adults and discussed all of the possible options for dealing with our predicament. We ended up landing on the idea that we would throw caution to the wind and give this whole parenting thing a shot. We moved in together and began preparations to bring our little bundle of joy into the world. Being the good hippies that we were, we opted for natural childbirth (an easier decision for me than it was for his mother) and signed up for Lamaze classes. At the start of the first class, we sat on the floor and practiced breathing exercises. As it turns out, I’m quite the little breather and I was convinced that this whole birthing thing was going to be a snap, but nothing could have prepared me for what was coming next. The instructor turned down the lights (I thought we were going to take a little nap as a reward for all my good breathing) and said “We are going to view a film about natural child birth”. Now I’m not a big fan of the horror film genre, but what was on that screen was far worse than any “slasher film” I had ever seen. The star of the movie was the largest vagina I had ever seen and it was spewing out all sorts of ghastly material followed by a bloody ball of wrinkled flesh with a rope attached to it. On the ride home that evening, I put forth the proposition that maybe we should reconsider some of the other options we had passed on for dealing with our predicament. To which I was told in no uncertain terms YOU WILL BE THERE and YOU WILL LIKE IT. Fairly late in the pregnancy, some unforeseen complications arose. My girlfriend noticed that what had been up until that point a fairly active baby had stopped kicking or pretty much making any movement at all. Concerned about this development, we decided to pay a visit to the doctor. It was determined that the placenta was beginning to separate from the wall of the uterus and the baby’s oxygen supply was being cut off. The doctor ordered total bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy. That’s when it hit me. I was in love with someone I had never met. The rest of that day, I spent agonizing over just how out of my control this situation actually was. That evening, I decided to use the only tool I had at my disposal: magic. I laid my hand on his mother’s stomach and focused all the positive energy I could muster out to the tips of my fingers. I could actually feel my fingertips vibrating. Then something happened that first was ever so subtle, but slowly grew stronger and stronger until we both realized that our child was kicking again. You can call it coincidence, but I call it magic. Finally, the day of reckoning arrived and after 24 hours of exhausting labor, the midwife nudged me and said, “better wake up dude or you’re going to miss this”. I assumed my position just behind the bucket and prepared myself for the worst. To my complete surprise, I then witnessed the most amazing miracle I had ever seen. After it was all over, the midwife handed me my son. We made eye contact and he reached up and tightly grasped my finger with his tiny little hand. It was at that moment that I realized that we had known each other all along. What I came to understand from this experience is that no one will ever love you in the same way that your parents do and you will never love anyone in the same way that you love your children. That’s just the way it is dude.

Subscribe to The Dudesletter Monthly Newsletter

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

About Wali, The Grateful Dude

In my formative years, I was lucky enough to attend an amazing high school modeled after the freedom school from the Billie Jack films. The curriculum included outdoor education, pottery and organic farming and emphasized values like creativity, self awareness and a strong sense of community. I spent several summers traveling from show to show with The Grateful Dead and found that not only could I beat the crap out of a plastic bucket in a drum circle, I was also quite the imported beer salesman. My early career started off in the eighties driving limousine for posers, drug dealers and wannabe rock stars in Los Angeles. In the late eighties, I was introduced to the former owner of Paradise Lakes Nudist Resort who had just seduced and proposed to my roommate while she was on vacation in Florida. Fred took me aside one afternoon and told me, “I like you, kid and since I’m taking your roommate and I’m pretty sure you can’t afford this beach rental on your own, why not come on out to Florida? I’ll find you a place to stay, give you a job and you’ll be surrounded by naked women”. So I loaded up my truck and moved to Paradise. Lakes, that is. Swimmin’ pools. Porno stars. (insert banjo solo here).

I wake up every morning (well almost every morning) knowing that today is a wonderful gift to be unwrapped and explored. I believe that every day is filled with limitless possibilities and endless abundance. I’m convinced that our true purpose in life is to interact with our fellow beings and give witness to this amazing universe that surrounds us.

If you are searching for miracles in life, you need go no farther than your backyard to realize that we are living in the midst of the greatest miracle of all.